


In a Bit of a Jam

by Sherlocks_TARDIS_in_Middle_Earth



Series: You Need Me Too [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF!Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Post Reichenbach, casefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlocks_TARDIS_in_Middle_Earth/pseuds/Sherlocks_TARDIS_in_Middle_Earth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock returns three years after the fall. John tries to maintain their friendship, but not everything is salvageable. The duo  must now see what the future holds for them when Sebastian Moran complicates their friendship and possible relationship while Sherlock keeps a secret from John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Birthday Party

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday present for Sam! I hope you like it. ^_^
> 
>  
> 
> This is part one of a series! Part two is being written right now.

Sherlock stood in the kitchen performing an autopsy on a recently deceased bird. Normally he wouldn’t bother with such frivolous experiments, but his latest case required certifiable proof. The kitchen was relatively clean with only the table disorderly. John organized everything during the day in preparation for the guests. It was his birthday and he invited everyone he met since his time with Sherlock. 

John entered the living room in his new jumper. It was a red and blue striped jumper with little gold triangles along the top. His sister bought it for him and sent it over since she declined going to his birthday party. John gave the room an onceover and nodded. It was presentable and organized. The bullet holes Sherlock made in the wall were left without repair since it reminded the duo of old times. John turned on his heel and started walking into the kitchen.

“Sherlock! Goddamn it. I need this table clean and disease free. We have guests coming!” John picked up some of the trays with bird organs and headed for the trash.

“John. I would recommend that you put those back on the table and wash your hands. This pigeon has been infected with the latest strain of bird flu but—“

“Bird flu?! You cannot have something like that in this home---in London!”

“Had you allowed me to finish I could explain why there is no need to worry. The latest strain of bird flu does not affect humans. It is relatively safe as long as you wash your hands” Sherlock looked up from the microscope. John placed the trays back down on the table and washed his hands. 

“I still need this table clean for the guests. They will be here in a few hours.” 

“No they won’t be. I cancelled it” He focused his attention back to the microscope. “I told them you felt ill. Molly was insistent on coming over to bring you your gift, but I told her that you would prefer her to stay away.”

John stood there exasperated. His mouth quivered as he tried to absorb what Sherlock told him. He raised his hand and tried to speak but it quickly fell as he realized he had no words for what Sherlock did. John had been planning this party not only for himself, but also for Sherlock. He wanted to celebrate Sherlock’s return and thought the birthday party would be a good opportunity for this. He knew Sherlock wouldn’t tolerate two parties in the same month so he figured a combined party would be better. He couldn’t stand looking at Sherlock any longer so he about-faced and left the apartment. 

“John can you hand me that scalpel?” Sherlock looked up and saw John had left. He sighed and reached across the table for the scalpel and punctured the bird’s heart.


	2. Gone

Night fell on London and John still didn’t return to Baker Street. He was wandering the streets of London trying to understand why he maintained a friendship with Holmes. 

_Every year since I’ve known him he ruins my birthday. First he jumps of St Bart’s a month before my birthday. Then three years I had to mourn him and now when I finally have him back he cancels it! Cancels it! I can’t blame him for also cancelling his celebration. He didn’t know about it. Or did he? Is that why he cancelled it? No, of course not. I hid it well! Ha. Who am I fooling? I can’t hide anything from the great Sherlock. Who in their right mind would do this though? I should just leave, find another flat. He doesn’t care about me. I’m going to go back there and tell him everything I’ve been holding in for three years._

John hailed a taxi and took the short ride back to 221B. He paid the driver and ran up the stairs to the flat. 

“Sherlock!” He yelled as he started to open the door. All the lights were off in the flat. John reached over to the switch and toggled it on and off but the lights wouldn’t turn on. 

“Sherlock?” He said hesitantly as he walked into the flat. “Are you here? The lights are out.”

“You are so astute. I’m glad to know your eyes are aware there is an absence of light. I’m in the kitchen.”

John bumbled his way into the kitchen and saw Sherlock hovering over the table with a purple UV light. Various organs were illuminated and specks of fluid were also glowing from the table. Sherlock’s face was softly lit purple and accentuating his cheekbones. John looked at his flatmate and felt the oddest sensation. No…not odd. He knew what it was, but he did not know that he could feel it for another man---certainly not Sherlock. Never Sherlock. Not the man who gave meaning to his life and then shattered it. The man who made him feel alive by nearly killing him. 

“John. You’re staring. Welcome back though. Had a nice evening?” Sherlock placed the UV light bulb on the table and turned on the kitchen light. “I rerouted the power from the rest of the flat to the kitchen; I needed all the power focused on my instruments.” Sherlock now had power tools all around the kitchen and various body parts on the table.

“What happened to the pigeon?”

“Solved that ages ago. It was quite simple really. The doctor was experimenting on pigeons before altering the virus to affect humans.”

John nodded and walked into the kitchen and picked up a bag of fingers. “What about all this now?”

“Bored. I borrowed these from Molly.” 

“So she didn’t wonder why you were bringing body parts into our home while I’m supposedly ill?”

“She didn’t see me so she didn’t have a chance to ask” Sherlock smirked and walked around the table. “Look at this John. Do you see how the bruises on this foot formed in such an interesting pattern after I injected it with formaldehyde? This person died from an unknown substance and in postmortem it brings some intriguing results!” Sherlock marveled at the foot. John wondered how Sherlock was as a child. People would probably institutionalize him if they didn’t see he was truly brilliant. 

“Sherlock. Can we talk?”

“We are talking right now.”

“No, I mean can we have a proper conversation. I have some things to discuss.” John put the bag of fingers on the table and sat down.

“You want to talk about me cancelling your party. You wonder why you still live here. You also don’t understand your feelings towards me” Sherlock smiled and walked into the dark living room.

“Don’t do that. Stop deducting ok? Now listen to me. I can’t live like this anymore. I missed you too much. Every day I missed you. I saw you jump, I felt your pulse. I went to your grave, Sherlock. Okay? Do you know what that did to me? What it did to Mrs. Hudson? I—I—I lost my only friend. My best friend. You made me feel alive again and then it was gone. I realized I was nothing without you and our cases.”

“But I’m back John. It’s okay. You are my friend still. You know Moriarty was real. Everyone does now. Lestrade and the Scotland Yard finally got something right for once” interjected Sherlock. 

“No. It’s not okay. Now shut up and listen you idiot. I have been holding all this in for three years.”

“Haven’t been seeing your therapist lately?”

John glared at Sherlock and sighed. “You were gone and I got over you. I closed that chapter of my life. It took me three years to finally allow myself to be happy. And now you are back and everything was a lie. No..no you didn’t lie about Moriarty. You lied to me about your death. That is what hurts me the most. Sherlock. I don’t think I should live here anymore. I don’t think we should work on any cases together. I’m moving out.”

Sherlock sat stoic. His fingers twitched slightly and his eyes remained focused on John’s. John fidgeted in his spot and tried to break eye contact but he was mesmerized by the man’s eyes. 

“Well. I see. How unfortunate. I was hoping we could work together again. But I can help you look for a new flat.”

“No. I can do it myself. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“You won’t have any place by then.”

“I already spoke with Greg and he’s letting me stay with him until I get a flat.”

Sherlock’s stoicism cracked and his eyes narrowed. He stood up suddenly. “Oh how nice. Are you going to gossip and have a little day of it? Lovely. You two have fun.” Sherlock stormed through the living room and kitchen to his room and slammed the door. 

“No. Oh no you fucking don’t!” John yelled as he ran over to Sherlock’s room. He opened it and found Sherlock lying on his bed with four patches on his arm. “You’re going to kill yourself like that.”

“Some people think I’m still dead. It doesn’t matter what happens now.”

“For once in your life. Try to understand how I feel. I don’t really want to go. But for the sake of my sanity I feel like I have to.”

“John. I can’t do that. You need me more than I need you. And it will always be like that.” Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed as the patches did their work.

John tilted his head and shook it. He left the room without another word and went to bed.


	3. Lestrade

John arrived at Lestrade’s flat the next day at noon. He left without saying a word to Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson was teary eyed to see him leave but she understood. John knocked on Lestrade’s door and it was opened after a few minutes wait. 

“Oh sorry. I was in the kitchen. Come on in John.”

John didn’t know what to expect in Lestrade’s home. The door led directly into a hallway. It was small and neat. The walls were bare save for a few decorative pictures of the countryside. It had been 3 years since his wife left him. Upon entering the flat John could see to his immediate right a door which led to the living room. The flower wallpapered walls contrasted with the modern television and speaker set. The room held two small couches and a recliner that seemed to be Lestrade’s favorite since it had a small table next to. 

_The table is out of place and seems deliberately placed next to the recliner. He spends most of his free time watching tele. The beer can hasn’t been there long. There are no ring stains on any of this furniture. He wouldn’t allow the can to stain the table, but he’s not using a coaster. So he must have been drinking recently. Oh shit, I sound like Sherlock._

“You alright there John? You seem to be staring into space.” Lestrade chuckled and moved further into the house. “Let me give you the grand tour.”  


Lestrade’s modest flat had only two bedrooms and one bathroom. He didn’t allow John see the master bedroom stating that it was unkempt. John’s room –Lestrade’s guest room—was light blue with white trim. The bed had a matching bed sheets and the nightstand was a simple table. There was nothing in the room and Lestrade mentioned he never had guests so it was never used. The kitchen and bathroom were ordinary and organized.

“Well. You have a lovely home. It’s all….neat” stated John as he looked around the kitchen. He opened the fridge and inside was some milk, fruit, and condiments. 

“You seem surprised.”

“Oh no. I’m just not used to this. Opening the fridge and not having a face stare back” John forced a smile. He wasn’t surprised that the flat was so clean. Of course it would be. John never realized that he actually loved the odd things in the flat he and Sherlock shared. Every day there was a new experiment or new evidence. Sherlock would always go on about the things he was doing and if he ever found a particular bit of information interesting he would jump in the air with glee. Seeing that always brought a smile to John. 

_I miss him. Oh god I miss him. I miss his face when he gets a new case or lead. I miss his temper tantrums when his face would scowl. How he would finally show emotion and I could see how he feels. Then the days after a case he solved he would fly high for a bit until he crashes and needs a new case. I loved those in-between moments. I loved everything he said or did. I love…_

John stopped his train of thought and walked into the living room where he saw Lestrade drinking the beer and watching tele. 

“You were staring into space again so I thought I would just leave you alone.”

“I’m going to go look at the flats now. I got the paper and I already called ahead. I’ll be back later” John held up the paper he left with his bags and tapped it.

“Alright. I might be out though when you come back. There’s a key on the nightstand in your room for you to use.”

John walked back to his room, grabbed the key and hurried out of the flat.


	4. Come Home Now

Sherlock opened his eyes and saw John was gone. He removed the patches and walked into the living room. He noticed that daylight was seeping into the room. The clock on the wall told him it was half past three. 

_Something doesn't feel right. There’s something in the air. Something is wrong. But what is it?_

Sherlock walked around the living room and stood on the chair. He spun around and jumped towards the window. Little did people know, Sherlock kept his dressing gown open for moments like this. It reminded him of a cape whenever he moved to fast or jumped. He knew it was childish and would never admit it, but he was human. 

“Mrs. Hudson?!” Yelled Sherlock. “Come here now! It’s urgent!”

Mrs. Hudson came bounding up the stairs and knocked on the door. “I’m here Sherlock. What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” She frantically asked as she tried to open the door.

Sherlock glided to the door and opened it. “Where’s John?” 

“Oh he left in the morning. Poor darling looked so sad. I offered to make tea. Shockingly he declined! Something must be wrong if he said no to tea! Oh! I remember. He said he was moving out. What happened?”

“Nothing. Mrs. Hudson. Nothing happened. Thank you now please leave.”

“Did you two get into a little domestic? Maybe if you---”

“Out Mrs. Hudson!”

Mrs. Hudson left the flat mumbling about how Sherlock needed to call John. Sherlock closed the door behind her and sighed. He took out his cell phone and started to message John.

**John. Come to the flat now. –SH.**

He held the phone in his hands and debated sending it. He rocked back and forth on his heels and did his ritual dance when he decided to actually call John instead. He dialed the number and waited for John to pick up. The phone rang a bit and went to voice mail. He called again and it went straight to voice mail. 

**Stop being such an idiot. Come home now. –SH.**


	5. The New Flat

John looked at his phone and turned it off. He was standing in a modest flat with only one bedroom in a not so nice part of London. Without anyone to share the rent, it was all he could afford. The owner of the flat was a red head in a very tight dress. John couldn't help but ogle her whenever she wasn't looking. 

“That your wife?” said the Lady whose name John forgot already.

“Oh hm? No. Why would you think it was my wife?”

“Just the way you rolled your eyes and sighed. I've seen that before, but it’s always been from men avoiding a call from their wives.” The Lady walked into the kitchen and started to give the same droll that John has been listening to all day from other renters. 

_Hm. How would she be so familiarized with that though? How men react to wives phone calls. It would mean she was around a lot of married men. But what kind of young lady would do that? That would be an unusual friendship. Not for the job. Married couples go together to look at flats. Oh I see. Of course, look at those shoes. A woman like her would never be able to afford shoes like that. She’s a mistress._

“Are you alright?” She walked over to John and slightly licked her red glossed lips. Her cleavage was prominently in his face now since she was taller than him. 

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” John coughed and averted his eyes trying not to stare at her. 

“Because men are never so quiet when around me. By now they would be trying to talk my clothes off” She stroked his cheek and turned his face towards her. “Oh. OH! I know. You don’t have a wife, you have a husband. No wonder. It’s okay darling, but if you are a bit curious I wouldn't mind showing you what it’s like to be with a woman.” She winked and walked away describing the cost of the flat.

“I’ll take it.” 

“What?”

“I said I’ll take the flat. I want it. Just tell me where to sign” John looked around the flat, smiled and nodded. 

“Oh. Alright” the Lady looked perplexed. She gave him the paperwork and showed him where to sign. “Usually people need some time to think this over. What about your husband?”

“It doesn't matter what he thinks” John furrowed his eyebrows upon realizing what he said. “I mean, I don’t have a husband. I’m sorry; I don’t know what I was saying.”

“Are you guys taking a break? Don’t answer, none of my business” the Lady handed him the key. “It’s yours now. Move in ready. Best of luck with you and your boyfriend.” She walked out of the flat.

John stood in the living room and looked at the flat. It had the same shape and layout as his flat with Sherlock. It was a lot smaller though and the kitchen held a mini-fridge instead. He looked at his watch and decided to get his things from Lestrade.

John found a taxi and told the driver Lestrade’s address. He arrived twenty minutes later and found Lestrade still at home. 

“I found a place” John announced when he walked into the living room.

“Already? I didn’t think you could get a flat so fast in London.” Lestrade was sitting in his recliner and it looked like he didn’t even move. He was on holiday though so John didn’t think it odd that a man who worked so hard would want to stay at home. John enjoyed just staying home with a cup of tea and some bread and jam as well. 

“It’s about twenty minutes away. Nice little flat. And in my price range. Anyways. I guess I’ll just grab my stuff and leave. Thanks anyways Greg.”

“Not a problem” Lestrade stood up. “John. Can I just say something?” John looked at him and put down the box. “Look. I know Sherlock isn’t the most caring person. But what he did at St. Bart’s. How he left us---you. I know that took a lot for him to do. I’ve known him a bit longer than you do. I know he’s changed a lot since he’s known you. He cares for you John. He’s a great man and I know that now. Why don’t you try talking to him again?”

“I tried. He’s a different person now. Whatever he did while he was gone changed him. He won’t tell me what happened. Whatever ounce of humanity he had is gone.” John’s face fell into a frown. He grabbed the box that held his belongings and left. 

He arrived at his new flat and fumbled with the keys until he could get inside. He placed the box on the floor and tried to turn on the lights. 

“What the hell?” He flipped the switch on and off but the lights wouldn't work. John walked towards the kitchen. 

**squeak** There was a slight movement from the kitchen. John moved himself against the wall and slowed his breathing. He listened intently to the kitchen for further noises. He slowly made his way to the kitchen keeping his back to the wall. **Squeak.** John stopped. He reached for his gun but realized he left it in Sherlock’s flat. He stood there waiting for whatever was in the kitchen to move first. He heard the door to his bedroom open. His room was accessed by walking through the kitchen through a little hallway and past the bathroom. It was actually designed a lot like his former flat. 

_That door sounded a lot closer than my bedroom. Oh. Oh shit!_

John turned around fast enough to see the main door swing open and a man walk in. This flat was identical to his former flat. It even had a second main door from the kitchen that exited to the landing that this man must have used.

“I know you are unarmed John. Don’t try struggling.” 

John couldn't see the man clearly. He was tall, much taller than John. Though that isn't saying much considering how short John is. He also wore a long coat and from the sounds his shoes made he wore boots. Suddenly John felt something hit the back of his head. There were two strangers in his new flat. John passed out quickly onto the floor. The last thing he heard was the men discuss how to transport him out of the flat.


	6. Prisoner

John opened his eyes slowly. His head was pounding and he noticed his right ear wasn’t functioning. After a few blinks he could make out that he was in a cellar. His arms and legs were tied to a chair and his jacket was on the floor next to him. He looked around the room and saw a figure sitting in the corner. 

“Hello?” John coughed, his mouth was dry.

“Finally awake now? Took you long enough” said the man John heard from the flat. His voice was deep and gravely—and American. He stood up and turned on the lights of the cellar. John could finally see the man was dressed in a long overcoat with a suit underneath. He was bald and had broad shoulders. He looked like the stereotypical hit-man. John looked around the room again hoping to find something to free him.

“Don’t bother. You’re tied on pretty tightly. Now tell me John, where is Holmes?” The man walked over to John and stood right in front of him. His brown eyes stared intensely into John’s baby blues. John shook his head and laughed slightly.

_Of course this is about Sherlock. It always is._

“Who do you work for, Mycroft? Oh no, let me guess Irene?” John started to laugh. His laugh turned into a cough and he looked back up at the man who looked confused.

“Right. Only a lunatic would be friends with a lunatic. But to answer your questions, no, I don’t. Now, stop laughing, and tell me where Sherlock is” The man looked down at John and cracked his knuckles.

“I don’t know. Who are you by the way?” John began to realize the seriousness of the situation. 

“Well, Doctor, that bit isn’t important. You have two options. One, tell me where Sherlock is and nobody dies. Or two, you sit there and rot while I go find him” He turned around and walked towards a work bench. On the table various tools were laid out. 

“How about no? Also, I’m a bit parched, do you have some tea?”

The man turned around holding a pair of pliers. “Do you think this is a fucking joke?” He yelled as he ran towards John and hit him with the pliers. John passed out with the impact and woke up an unknown amount of time later. He was bleeding heavily from a long gash along the side of his face.

“Where is Holmes?” A new voice filled John’s ear. He blinked his eyes and saw the Lady from the flat next to him. She was bent over with her mouth only inches from his ear. “Tell me John. Where’s your boyfriend at?”

“I’m not telling you shit” John spat and blood flew onto her dress.

“Oh dearest John. This will be fun” The Lady walked over to the table and looked at the tools. “I’ve always enjoyed this part. The torture. Hearing the screams always made me feel alive. I can’t feel. Literally I cannot feel pain. Some sort of nerve damage from when I was a baby. Oh they have such simple tools.”

“Who are you? I’m guessing you really aren’t a rental agent.”

“Did you really think it was so easy to get a flat in London? Of course not. It was all planned, we knew Sherlock would drive you nuts. It was all part of the plan.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. How could you possibly know that” John’s head was throbbing and he could barely feel his hands anymore. 

“Isnt this how it always happens, I tell you the entire plan and then you get rescued? Well, no one is here to rescue you anyways. Did Sherlock ever tell you where he went?” John shook his head. The Lady smiled and continued. “I’m not surprised. He wouldn’t remember most of it. he killed Moriarty’s men. He killed Moriarty. My employer was not very happy with that. Sherlock travelled Asia for a while hunting down various parts of my agency. Finally he reached Sebastian Moran, my boss.” The Lady walked over to John and stroked his cheek with a butcher's knife. She opened her legs and straddled John and put her arms around his neck. John tensed and pulled his face away from her. "You really love him. Now let me tell you where your precious Sherlock was.”

**~Two years Earlier.**

Sherlock was standing on top of a building. He just killed the last of Moriarty’s men and was now looking to take down the rest of the agency. He was determined to kill anyone who would hurt his friends. Sherlock pulled out a picture of John and him. Mrs. Hudson took it during the Christmas party and printed them out a copy. Originally Sherlock ignored it and left it on the mantel to appease John, but now he kept it with him at all times. 

“I’m sorry John” Sherlock’s eyes began to tear up and he put the photo back into his jacket. 

For the next month he travelled across Europe taking down whoever he could. Moran's agency members didn’t know anyone other than those in their inner circles. Eventually he made his way to Asia---China to be exact---where he heard Sebastian, their leader lived. Sherlock’s homeless network was vast and he easily found his home. Well, easily for Sherlock, anyone else attempting this task would be in Australia by now based on all the false information he’s heard.

Sherlock walked up the home. He was in a residential neighborhood and families walked down the road with their children. He knocked on the door and waited. A young man opened it and looked at Sherlock. 

“May I help you?” The young man looked at Sherlock. He was dressed in a plain butler’s suit.

“Yes. I am from the gas company. There appears to be a leak from your home. May I come in?” Sherlock forced a smile and tried to act natural.

“You don’t look like you’re from the gas company.”

Sherlock sighed and smiled again. He punched the young man in the throat and walked inside the house. He dragged the man’s body into the foyer and listened to the noises of the house. 

“How convenient. Sherlock in my own home” Sebastian chuckled and walked over to Sherlock.

“Sebastian I presume. You look so much…shorter than I imagined.”

“Oh. Don’t worry. I’m still just as deadly. You killed Moriarty. Tsk tsk tsk. You can’t even comprehend how I felt. But now I can show you” Sebastian charged towards Sherlock with a knife in his hand. Sherlock rolled his eyes and tripped him. He kicked the knife out of his hand and pinned him down with his knee.

“I would kill you, but I know of others who would take so much more pleasure in it” Sherlock took out his phone and started to text various people. Sebastian started laughing and shaking his head. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh…you’ll see.”

Sherlock heard footsteps behind him and just as he turned around he was punched on the head. A few hours later Sherlock woke up tied to the kitchen chair. Sebastian walked over to him and shined a light into his eyes. “Good morning sunshine.” Sherlock closed his eyes tight against the sudden light. “Did you really think it was going to be so easy? Got a bit of a headache now?” 

“Oh no. It’s fine. So what’s the plan here? Threaten me, torture…oh no wait, you are going to kill me. So boring” Sherlock rolled his eyes and pretended to yawn. 

“No…I’m going to have a little fun with you.” Sebastian walked out of the kitchen and came in carrying a dulled razor knife. 

“Right. Your agency loves torture. Hm, a dulled blade, to cause more pain and prolong the healing process. Not very creative, I killed another one of your agents who used the same technique. Maybe you are getting a bit rusty” Sherlock smirked and yawned again.

**~Present Day**

“Okay wait a minute. How the hell do you know all this? Obviously Sherlock killed Sebastian otherwise he wouldn’t be in London” John scoffed.

“You are such an impatient boy. Now let me finish the story” The Lady slid off John’s lap and sat down on the chair the man was sitting in earlier. When she sat her dress pulled up her thigh and John rolled his eyes. Regardless of how beautiful she was, John could only focus on Sherlock.

**~Two Years Earlier**

“Well you have such a mouth on you. I wonder how John feels when he kisses you” Sherlock’s smirk turned into a scowl at the mention of John. 

“John and I are friends, we have never kissed.”

“No…no he’s more than a friend in your mind. I know what happened on the roof. You cried Sherlock. You cried because you knew you would crush John’s heart” Sebastian set down the knife. He found Sherlock’s only weakness. “But now you are here. And John is alone in 221B Baker Street. He has no one to protect him. His limp is back, did you know that? Of course you don’t, but my men are watching him. Don’t look so shocked. You can try to destroy my agency, but there will always be more men and women to work for me.”

Sherlock’s body began to tense, the veins in his neck bulged and bits of sweat began to roll down his face. He was angry---angrier than he ever was. He sacrificed everything for John and to know that there was still a chance John could get hurt was too much for him to comprehend. Sebastian grinned and left the kitchen leaving Sherlock to his own thoughts. 

_No. I killed them. I destroyed them. I left John safe and sound. He has to be safe. Is he even alive? I have to get out of here._

Sherlock listened for Sebastian’s footsteps. He glanced at the knife at the counter and calculated the risk of getting caught trying to grab it. _Anything for John._ Sherlock slid the chair across the kitchen floor trying to minimize the scraping noise. He probably heard that. Sherlock turned around and grabbed the knife and started to cut the ropes behind his back. He quickly cut the ropes from his legs and stood against the wall waiting. _Where is he?_ Sherlock slowed his breathing and listened. _Two minutes to cut the ropes, one minute since he left. Three minutes total. Two floors, standard family home. He left. But he knew I would take the knife. Of course he did. All part of the game._

 **Tick-tock-tick-tock** _A bomb!_ Sherlock ran towards the front door and tried to open it. The handle was removed and the door was boarded shut. He ran to the living room and inspected the windows. With no other option he threw a chair and jumped out the window. Seconds after landing outside the ticking noise stopped. Sherlock scrambled to his feet and ran into the streets. He stood up and looked at the house. Nothing happened and Sherlock tilted his head in surprise. _Well that was anticlima— _**Boom.** The whole street shook and Sherlock fell backwards. The surrounding homes were also on fire and families ran out carrying children and pets trying to escape the blaze. Sherlock looked around for Sebastian amongst the sea of faces but saw nothing. He left the scene and started his way towards the airport.__

__**~Present day** _ _

__“You can’t possibly know all this” John looked at the Lady in disbelief._ _

__“Call me a story-teller but most of what I said is true. He did have a picture of you with him. Sebastian filled me in on all the rest”_ _

__“Where is Sebastian now?”_ _

__“I’m not telling you” the Lady laughed and uncrossed and crossed her legs._ _

__The door of the cellar opened and a figure appeared at the top of the stairs.“No, but you should tell me.” The Lady and John looked up to see a tall man. John instantly recognized the voice and he couldn’t help but smile. “John, I didn’t know you had a kink for bondage” Sherlock smiled and walked downstairs._ _

__“Shut up Sherlock” John tried to say seriously, but he was too happy._ _

__“Now if you would please untie him. I know how disappointed he will be, but I’ll like to take him home now” Sherlock said to the Lady who stood abruptly._ _

__“You can’t be here. You’re supposed to be dead” The Lady’s voice began to shake. John looked at her shocked. He never heard someone sound so scared._ _

__“You know that it is in your best interest to release John. Do it now or face the consequences” Sherlock stepped closer to the Lady. John was mesmerized at how poised and serious Sherlock became. He stood up a little straighter and he towered over the Lady. She nodded and removed the bindings from John._ _

__“Please. I have a family. Please don’t hurt me” The Lady began to beg for her life. Sherlock looked at her and turned to John. John looked at the lady now on her knees, hands clasped begging. He shook his head and Sherlock walked over to her. He punched her square in the face and she collapsed. She was still alive, but unconscious. Sherlock stretched his gloved fingers and removed the gloves. He turned to John who looked terrified. The rage and anger in Sherlock’s eyes was new and he never seen it before. Sherlock walked towards John who stumbled backwards. He grabbed John’s shoulders and leaned down to look him in the eyes._ _

__John’s heart began to pound harder and his breathing slowed. He stared in Sherlock’s eyes. “That…that thing you did. I—“ John tried to say but Sherlock leaned in closer and pressed his lips against John’s. Sherlock grasped John’s hips and pulled him closer. John was shocked and his eyes widened at Sherlock’s hands against him but the burning sensation he felt dulled the shock. He gave into the kiss and tangled his hands into Sherlock’s hair. The two stood in the cellar grabbing each other in ways John never imagined. Sherlock tried to pull John’s jumper off but John resisted._ _

__“Sherlock, not here.”_ _

__Sherlock pulled back and adjusted his hair. He nodded and started to walk upstairs. “Wait. What just happened. You can’t do this again. We need to talk” John grabbed Sherlock’s hand._ _

__“Not here John. Let’s go.”_ _

__“How did you even find me?”_ _

__“Don’t worry about that” Sherlock held onto John’s hand and walked with him upstairs. John could finally see that it was daylight out. The cellar was located in a modest home that looked ordinary. However, when they walked into the living room, John could see that it was not a normal home. Blood splattered everywhere and it smelled of death. John looked around and saw the man from earlier lying in a pool of blood on the couch. Sherlock tugged on John’s hand and led him to the foyer._ _

__“What happened?” John stopped walking and pulled Sherlock closer to them just before exiting the home._ _

__“We have to leave now. More might come back.”_ _

__“The flat can’t be safe. They know where we live.”_ _

__“I arranged for us to stay at one of Mycroft’s safe houses. Mrs. Hudson has also relocated to stay with family,” Sherlock let go of his hand and left the house. John ran after him and the pair grabbed a taxi and headed for the airport. Sherlock stared out the window and John didn’t know what to say. He grabbed Sherlock’s hand and squeezed it. Sherlock looked at their clasped hands and up at John. He moved his hand away and started to text. John sighed and leaned against the window and fell asleep._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shall post the next series soon! It will be all about Sherlock and John trying to rebuild their friendship and possibly a relationship. Much more fluff will be involved there!


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